This is the story of Hermione's birth mother, Perdita Licciardi, an Italian-English Muggle woman raped and driven mad by torture at the hands of Cygnus Black. She lives long enough to name Hermione and ensure her only daughter is taken into hiding by her lover, Alphard Black, Cygnus' younger brother.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction and all characters and magical places belong to the all-powerful J.K Rowling, no money is being profited from this piece and no copyright infringement is intended. The Hellingly Hospital is a real abandoned castle I used for its name only, any resemblance to any past real patients or situations are purely circumstantial.
Title: House of Secrets.
Prequel: The Winter's Tale.
December the Nineteenth, year 1979.
"I have drunk and seen the spider."
-Act II, Scene I of The Winter's Tale, William Shakespeare.
'Shhh; it's okay, it's okay. This is our dirty little secret…'
-House of Secrets, Otep
Along the rolling green hills of the East Sussex countryside stood a proud, secluded castle in the distance, much too out of the way for a normal wanderer to explore. The sky-reaching walls exuded ill-omened charm which kept a wary, sane person a safe distance away. If one did happen to come close enough to the foreboding property, the front of the brick lined building modestly boasted the name Hellingly Institute, an appropriate name, to say the least; as its meaning was duplicitously double-edged and hidden in plain sight.
Hell. It was so utterly fitting because that is what breathed between the crumbling walls and cracked floors of turrets and stone, the very veins of the castle thriving on the miserable state of its deeply troubled patients and deteriorating orderlies.
Unbeknownst to the rest of the Muggle world with the exception of its occupants, the Hellingly Institute was actually an insane asylum that housed the tragic survivors of the most awful kinds of Dark Arts. Precisely eighty-three percent of all patients were unfortunate Muggles harshly exposed and permanently scarred by witnessing magic firsthand; the damaged victims, magical or non-magical, of countless evil Unforgivable curses and hexes, and unending, terrible torture or the like, the other small percentage were simply tattered humans beyond any repair, medical or supernatural.
They lived in abundant pain and squalor; their numbered days agonizingly long and surrounded by nothing else but the other lost souls of the cold, merciless world and all safely hidden away under the grandiose exterior of the Hellingly Institute.
People came and went secretly in black, unmarked vehicles and as soon as a patient was admitted they were neither seen nor heard from again, and once deceased all their medical records mysteriously disappeared. Their life and identity was erased, leaving no indication that they had ever existed at all or any trace of a legacy behind them.
Most heartbreaking of all was that the establishment had not always been so frightfully disorganized; but over the last several years due to the increasing casualties of the war taking place in the Wizarding world as the Dark Lord rose to power, a sanctuary was needed. The necessity arose for there to be a location somewhere to conceal the evidence of pure malevolence walking amongst the earth, solace for the maltreated.
With doors opened to take in each and every one individual, Hellingly was turning away no one until the hospital was overrun and sinking under the flooding demands of its irreparable victims. Soon the doctors and orderlies were outnumbered ten-to-one and all were lacking the profound knowledge and instruments required to cure magical maladies. The building foundation deteriorated under the pressure of its capacity, the staff folded under the immense pressure and horrors they were subjected to daily, and along with overall working conditions…
And so ended the glorious rein of the Hellingly Institute; beginning the doomed existence of the Hellingly Insane Asylum.
A hell on earth; a dark winter eternally gripped the castle and left the skies permanently white with a blanket of snow ever on the ground and refused to let the chill be shaken from the bones of the residents in the castle.
It was on one mid-December night the white, maze-like corridors resounded with the endless, blood-curdling screams of one of Hellingly's youngest patients. Her cries reverberated out of the small room on the fourth floor and there were only two other wizards in the room with her.
Alphard Black paced relentlessly, unable to bear the excruciating pain of his young Muggle lover. Perdita was propped up in the bed, naked from the waist down with her legs spread open and blood was smeared over her thighs and sheets.
The other man in the room was a respected half-blood doctor who had resided on the Black family payroll for years, as his father had done in the generations before. No one knew the two men were there and no one would find out, that was the only thing Alphard was positively sure of.
Perdita Licciardi was only twenty years old, yet she was a pretty, beguiling thing. She had no magical blood, and that was the reason they were there in the utmost confidentiality. Alphard was a member of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, and as such an affiliation with a Mudblood was strictly forbidden but that didn't stop his presence being there for her when she needed him most.
Although he was only repentant because he had let her descend so far; six months ago when he admitted her into the Hellingly Institute he was unaware of the horrors that lay within. After several weeks with no word he sent in his trusted friend, Doctor Samuel Ramsey. At last, they infiltrated the building but Alphard was devastated when he received a report that Perdita was in a fragile mental state and non-responsive to most tests and questions.
They had kept her strapped down to her mattress, her wrists and ankles rubbed raw and oozing as she lay in a puddle of waste and grime and blood. He had thought if he hid her away she could give birth and raise her baby in peace, in the quiet countryside under careful lock and key.
If only he had known the truth before, but by the time he got to her it was too late.
He did manage to make them keep her free from chains, but whenever he came to visit she huddled in the corner, holding her stretched belly cowering in fear. Perdita did not even recognize him anymore, and if she was so unlucky as to have a lucid moment she was begging to be set free- but not from the institution. Day after throbbing day she relived her torment, of her torture inflicted at the hands of his very own brother that landed her in her current predicament, all because my family suspected my treachery.
She was utterly distraught and had gone mad, her mind having no other way to cope with being struck with the Cruciatus Curse for hours on end and brutally raped by Cygnus. He thought he had left her for dead but she stumbled away and found Alphard before collapsing into a coma.
When she finally did awake, she could not stand to be touched by anyone. Even being in the same room as Alphard unsettled her, which led him to try and find a place for her in the first place.
And now there they were; Perdita only thirty-two weeks pregnant and seemingly not even conscious to the fact that she was going to deliver a baby, Alphard distraught over her condition but seeking to protect her child, and the doctor who was doing anything and everything he could for her.
No one had even bothered to check on the incessant noise being produced from the room, subsequently discovering our presence there.
"Can't you give her anything? Numb the pain, knock her out, just do something-" Alphard snapped at Samuel impatiently.
But the doctor was no stranger to the nature of the hasty, demanding Black family. "Don't you think I have? I gave her everything I had, believe me, Al."
Snarling and stalking away, Alphard ran his hands through his flaxen blond hair (a rare trait from his mother,) and prayed this matter would be over soon. If he was unflinchingly honest with himself, he was the cause for Perdita's demise- he was guilty by association. It killed him to see her this way; a young woman who had been so full of spirit less than a year ago, an aspiring novelist and a bit of a feminist, Alphard's summer fling in Italy had cost this person her full life- who knew what precious gifts she had yet to offer this world?
But this child, albeit being the fruit of Cygnus' wicked deeds, was also the child of the fair Perdita and deserved a chance in this world. There may be hope for it yet…
Perhaps calling him by his nickname triggered something in her mental state and suddenly panicked she called out to him. "Al- Alphard? Are you… there, Al?" She asked the ceiling with unfocused eyes.
In an instant he crossed the room in a few short strides to her bedside, grabbing her small fingers and held them between his own. "Yes, yes Perdita, I am here," he said to her softly, smoothing her mangled, honey-colored curls off of her forehead.
"The cord is wrapped around the neck, Al, I have to get it out now," Samuel was telling Alphard urgently, but he ignored him and stared into the lovely hazel eyes that wobbled slightly in her skull.
She winced, gasping through the aches that rocked her frame. "It's c-c-coming, I can f-feel it, Al… It's death-" she cut herself off, howling in pain.
"No, no my darling, everything will be fine. Once we deliver this child we will go away from here and we will live, we will happily…" Alphard lied eloquently, calming her thrashing fits. "You are doing wonderfully, my girl, you've almost made it."
"I can't- I can't- I can't…" She wailed, tears rolling out of her eyes.
He was losing her again as she clawed at his arms but he held her tightly, not wanting to let go of the woman he cared so deeply for.
Meanwhile Samuel was carefully trying to pull the infant out while not choking or snapping its neck. "You have to help me get her to push, I have to cut the cord in the right spot," he was explaining frantically wiping his brow and consequently rubbing blood over his face.
Alphard looked upon Perdita's pale, sunken face her mouth slack and expelling wheezing breaths. She had already lost so much blood and would lose much more before the delivery was over. He didn't know… would she be able to be saved?
He turned to the doctor and said evenly, "Do what you have to save the child, Sam. I will handle her."
Samuel looked up momentarily, hesitating as a look of grave understanding dawned on his worn face before he gave a short determined nod and went back to his ultimate task.
From this angle, Alphard could see a dark head of hair already emerge and he grimaced, turning back to Perdita. He would focus on her until the very end.
"Look at me, Perdita, look at me," he directed at her, cupping her lolling head in his palm. She was looking away, reaching for something under her pillow but he clutched her hand and pressed her knuckles to his lips in a chaste kiss. "Come on, love, focus."
Her wild gaze found him for a second and he strengthened his resolve while he had the chance. "You have to help us. Help your baby, Perdita, help your little one and push!" Alphard urged her, clutching her hand and lacing their fingers together.
She seemed to understand for she screwed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth, exerting the last of her remaining energy to shove another life out of her. He stayed by her the entire time, keeping her awake and alert and pushing.
After what felt like hours, Samuel was holding a premature bloody, silent infant in his hands. Alphard did not leave Perdita's side, but did look away and inquired of the doctor, "Is it alive?"
Sam held the child's mouth close to his ear, listening for signs of breath. Setting the baby on the end of the bed, he leaned over it and checked the pulse with his fingers. They were all shocked when the baby took a deep, shuddering breath and started wailing louder than its mother had been mere minutes ago.
"Yes! Yes, she is alive," Sam declared in triumphant relief, quickly gathering the girl in his arms and cleansing her with a Cleaning Charm and wrapping her in the white cloth he had brought along with him.
"She… she is alive…" I echoed, dumbfounded staring at my little niece in wonder. I looked back to Perdita, who was watching the doctor as well, reaching out weakly in his direction though her hand clutched a thin book.
My lover was fading quickly, the color completely draining from her face, her mouth moving wordlessly. "Let her hold her baby," I said suddenly, surprising everyone in the room.
"Are you sure-"
"Quickly, we haven't much time," I said hastily, crossing over to him and taking the little bundle from him and walking back over to her mother.
Sam removed the book she was holding, inspecting it as I placed the child in Perdita's waiting arms. She had enough strength left to look upon her daughter with awe, actually registering what was happening in the moment. "So… so beautiful," she said reverently, holding her face against her child's.
He watched the sad scene, moved at the affection she felt despite knowing nothing but suffering over the last eight months. "The book," she rasped, looking around violently all of a sudden and becoming panicked.
Quickly Alphard extracted the baby from her arms, and handed her back over to Samuel so he could finish tending to all his tests and spells. Retrieving the book from the table Sam set it on; he read the cover with interest: The Winter's Tale by William Shakespeare.
Handing the book back over to Perdita, Alphard asked, "What is it?"
She gripped the binding like she was holding onto it for dear life, desperately trying to pry it open. He had to rush to help her, nimbly helping her fingers to work properly because she was trembling so hard.
"Mess- message," Perdita stuttered, carelessly flipping over and slightly ripping some pages. At last she found the one she wanted. Her finger pointed hard onto a page and he leaned in to see what she was trying to draw to his attention.
There on the page in the first act she was pointing to the name of one of the main characters of the Shakespearean play. Her blackened fingernail pointed to the word, 'Hermione.' She looked up at Alphard pleadingly, asking without words so many questions.
"Hermione- That's what you want to name her?" he asked, just for clarification.
Perdita nodded faintly, a small smile gracing her lips as she whispered lovingly, "Hermione…" and falling back onto her pillow in a slump, she was gone.
Alphard and Samuel tried at length to revive her but too much blood had been lost or she had simply been through too much. When the doctor drew the sheet over her body in defeat, I clutched little Hermione to me protectively, knowing then what must be done.
In the oddly calm, early hours of the morning Alphard, Samuel, and Hermione left the castle, levitating the body of Perdita Licciardi behind them. When they reached the Apparition point, Alphard hugged the infant once more, looking upon her pink, scrunched face with longing one last time.
Here, he would leave Hermione with Sam, and the doctor would procure a good, safe home for the young girl where she would grow up never knowing of the horrors that brought her into the cruel world. Alphard only wished he could raise the girl as his own, but knew he would only put them both into even more crucial danger.
Samuel looked across the way at Alphard, calling out to him, "Don't worry, Al. I will take care of everything and she will live a long, happy life."
Knowing it was the right thing that he would never see her again, Alphard let Sam go with his niece, leaving him with the unpleasant task of lying to rest the girl still floating in the air behind him. He took her icy cold hand in his and Apparated to Florence, Italy where he first met Perdita.
He had her buried in a small, discreet family cemetery with a mostly unmarked grave, only bearing a single white rose and the words, "Perdita, a Mother Much Missed; April 1959- December 1979."
Alphard Black would never forget the Muggle woman who changed his life or his youngest niece that would be brought up ignorant to her own background and unpleasant family history. But the Death Eaters would haunt him for his actions and ultimately catch up to him two years later, dying at the hands of Cygnus.
But the Dark Lord's henchmen would never find little Hermione, carefully out of sight in the house of Muggles whose memories were modified to believe they were her real parents, never able to have any of their own.
And so Hermione Granger was brought up into the world.
Author's Note: Just to clear up any confusion:
Hermione's birthday is changed only three months later to fit the title of the prequel better. So just ignore astrology if that's your thing, I'm not changing her core personality much. She is the illegitimate child of Cygnus Black, making her half-sister to Narcissa Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange, and Andromeda Tonks, which, yes, technically means Lucius Malfoy is her brother-in-law and Draco is her half-nephew-in-law… twice removed, probably! Her survival was made possible by Alphard Black, her uncle in this story, who also supported Sirius in the books.
I was re-reading House of Secrets and inspiration struck so I added this prequel. Perdita's story just begged to be told and when I remembered Alphard everything fell into place. I hope you enjoy this little bit of randomness. = D